Shouldn't Haves
by Rose of Pearl
Summary: It shouldn't be like this. It really shouldn't.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: Hey all. For all the "The Gaze of a Stranger" readers out there, don't worry, I'm still working on TGS. I came up with this concept one night, and it wouldn't leave me alone, so I am compelled to work on it immediately, until it is finished. This story will be pretty short, but I like it anyway.

I hope everyone enjoys the story!

Disclaimer: Insert generic disclaimer from every other fic in this category.

Shouldn't Haves  
Chapter 1

It shouldn't have been like this.

He shouldn't have been so careless with that photo.

He shouldn't have lost it.

He shouldn't have let himself get so attached to it in the first place.

He shouldn't have allowed his memories, his _love_, for his mother to revolve around a crinkled photo and an ancient, scrawled "I love you."

And he definitely shouldn't have complained and sulked about the loss of said photo to such an irritating extent that his family was moved to ambush him and tape his mouth shut.

But he had. And now all of those "shouldn't haves" that he _should have _stopped, but didn't in favor of sullen misery, had opened up a whole new realm of "shouldn'ts".

For instance, he _shouldn't _be awake at this hellish hour.

He _shouldn't_ be so distracted that he was only now hearing the pleading "Donnie, please talk to me!" that his father had already uttered three times.

He _shouldn't_ be unable to see for the unshed tears that clouded his vision and burned his eyes.

And he _shouldn't_, under any circumstances, be sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the emergency room of Cherry Cross Memorial Hospital, waiting to find out if his little brother would make it through the night.


	2. Chap 1: Careless

_Author's Note: Wow, I totally abandoned this story for a good long while. Then again, I did the same thing with TGS…oops. Anyways, good news for this story. I have several chapters already written, and almost ready for posting. The bad news is, those chapters are Chapters 2, 3, 5, and 6. I'm missing a chapter 4. It needs a bit of work cough hasn't been written at all cough . Guess I should work on that, huh? Anyways, enjoy! And oh yeah, reviews are lovely!_

_Disclaimer: If you had one thing in the world, if you could choose any one thing, anything at all, what would it be? Well, some people here might disagree with me, but for me, that thing would not be the cast of Numb3rs. And even if I did own them, they'd probably rebel against my rule, for I am the evil queen Control Freak!! Mwahahahahaha...ahem. Nothing to see here, folks, move along...right.  
_

**Chapter 1: Careless **

_He shouldn't have been so careless with that photo…_

Of all the photos, all the keepsakes, all the memories in physical form that belonged to Don Eppes and only Don Eppes, that photograph was the most precious. He carried it with him, although it certainly wasn't a wallet photo. It didn't really fit in his briefcase—but he stuffed it in there anyway, cramming it between wads of paperwork that served as padding, oceans of Styrofoam nuggets protecting the treasure hidden deep within the dark leather case. Those nuggets were needed for the picture's protection: for all that he carried it with him everywhere, he never even bothered to take the thing out of its frame.

A part of him always wondered if that picture even _could _come out of its frame. The stiff paper had been embraced by the lovely, hand carved wooden casing for so long, it was as if frame and photo had grown together. He couldn't imagine them apart, and he never wanted to lose hold of the feeling that his mother was with him, so he carried the entire package with him always, unseen support from beyond the grave.

If frames and photos could only talk…that picture had seen everything.

Whenever he traveled, either for business or pleasure, the photo went with him. In fact, it was often the first thing he unpacked, just to reassure himself that the journey had not damaged it.

Whenever he arrived at the office, the photo remained nestled in his briefcase, emerging only when he felt the need to see a familiar face that couldn't frustrate him with foolish words. But even though it went unseen most of the time, he could always feel it there. It was as though the frame was a portal to Heaven, and if he but reached out his hand, his fingertips would be met by those of his mother, warm and alive, a spirit whose smile never faded.

But if anyone else was there—even Charlie—the photo stayed hidden. It belonged to Don, and Don alone. It was his secret, his memory. Besides, he didn't want to appear foolish or weak before his coworkers, and least of all his brother.

At home, the photo often remained in his brief case, just because current life often pushed old memories, no matter how beloved, aside in favor of new joys and sorrows, laughter and tears. But when pain and aggravation followed him home from work, the photo watched over him as he slept, perched safely atop his nightstand.

So, silly as it might sound, Don carried that picture with him everywhere. And it meant almost as much to him as his mother.


	3. Chap 2: Lost

I said in the prologue that this fic is going to be relatively short (in comparison with TGS, at any rate). That being said, I present proof: two very short chapters.

Three cheers for gorillas and chimpanzees.

**  
Chapter 2: Lost**

_He **shouldn't** have lost it…_

The witness was being an ass, the case was falling apart, and Charlie was home with the flu, unable to assist with his magic math. Don was not a happy FBI agent right now.

He really, _really_ needed a bit of de-stressing right now. And he knew exactly where to get it.

His hand delved within the confines of his briefcase, drifting automatically to the spot where a certain treasured photo should be. He frowned as his fingers found nothing, and patted around the inside of the case, trying to find it by feel without letting on to his team that something (other than life in general, right now) was wrong. When he still found nothing, he quietly lifted the case onto his desk, and opened it all the way.

A snarled curse and a whirl of papers as an abused briefcase hit the floor nuked one suddenly-pissed-off FBI agent's attempt to hide his frustration from his team. Upon visual inspection, his eyes found what his fingers had already told him: the photo was not there.


	4. Chapter 3: Attached

I said in the prologue that this fic is going to be relatively short (in comparison with TGS, at any rate). That being said, I present proof: two very short chapters.

Three cheers for gorillas and chimpanzees. 

**Chapter 3: Attached**

_He **shouldn't** have let himself get so attached to it…_

Don wasn't an avid photographer, nor was he a self-professed photogenic. The majority of pictures that featured the family special agent, pre- or post-FBI, wound up on display or tucked away somewhere in his brother's home. The only camera-spawn to be found within the confines of Don's apartment were the occasional tribute to his baseball skills, the token family portrait, and a few visual memoirs of life's most poignant moments. All in all, Don wouldn't be too broken up if he lost any one picture. As long as he still had the people that he cared about, he could always take more pictures.

Maybe that was why there was only one photo out of hundreds that he really, truly cared about. Maybe that was the reason that he always made a point of making sure he knew where that photo was. Maybe that was why that photo ranked among the few treasures that he possessed. Maybe that was why he genuinely loved that one particular photo so much: only one of the people in that memory was still around.


End file.
